Sensual Sadist

I can’t believe I don’t have a romance category! How fucked up is that? I just added one.

Without kink, our relationship is very romantic anyway. A lot of what pet does for me, the massages, the importance of my happiness to him, the saying nice things to me… I am sure they’d exist if we weren’t practicing perverts. But that doesn’t exclude them from our kinky bonding either, and in fact, I think it acts as a lens sometimes to magnify these acts.

I sometimes have my inner complaints about my situation. I wish, selfishly, that he were more this or less that. In the beginning I wished he had a genuine shoe/foot fetish, because I felt that I’d have something to easily manipulate him with, but eventually I realized it was more wholesome to have him surrender to me, and he developed a different kind of foot fetish - he fetishizes my feet. Unlike a hardcore foot man, he’ll never leave me if I get varicose veins.

But these days, though I may feel selfish want slightly more often, or more openly, it is truly in perspective.

Richard, being who he is, is always willing to indulge me if he can, to go the extra mile. He’s a superpervert, of course, which I think helps, but it’s much more than that. Most guys would draw the line at certain things because they’re that bit too humiliating, too intense, or too taboo. (Or how about too painful?!).

For example, in several introductory texts on kink and D/s it’s explained that most men stop short at the hardcore stuff such as drinking urine or cleaning dirty footwear with their tongue, not to mention heavy beatings. My initial response was “Yeah right!” but I realized I am just spoilt. Not to mention, I hang out with hardcore pervs online.

With Richard, health and mood willing, it’s usually the opposite - many things seem trite and not humiliating enough. And for someone like me, though it was slightly intimidating at first, it’s a Very Good Thing Indeed.

Last night I had another wee bout of insomnia (nothing too bad). I kept thinking about how it feels to hit him with stuff. To me it’s very romantic, intimate, hot and sexy all rolled into one. I got into alternative love because I had fantasies of walking on men. I thought about hitting them, too, but the walking seemed more spicy and exotic.

Hitting them was so cliche, so washed out, or so I thought… Now it has become the flagship thought in my romantic kinky arsenal. Often, it hurts him, but the more he sees I get from it emotionally, the more he enjoys it and is capable of taking. The thought of stretching our limits is exciting and romantic.

After smoking something I shouldn’t have smoked, I began inspecting the floggers and canes I have by the bed, looking at them closely in that way you do when you’ve been smoking things you shouldn’t. I thought of the suede, leather, rubber, wood, lexan, slamming into his butt; in glorious timestretched slow motion, of course. I thought of his responses, the sounds he makes, and how I feel, emotionally and physiologically during these times. The way love and cruelty, the joy and the beautiful sadness fuse together to create a satisfying and mystifying totality…

I think about the symbolism and connotations the media has attached to my beloved paraphernalia and I grimace to myself. I don’t mind some of the stereotypes. I like dressing in black, shiny clothes. I like imposing footwear - provided it’s somewhat comfortable and not restrictive. I even like, to some extent, how female tops are portrayed sometimes in films.

But still I haven’t seen anything in the media which captures anything similar to the relationship I am in with Richard, and so I discard these pervasive, external images, and imagine my equipment as something different from the identical-looking implements depicted on TV, films and even much of the internet.

I recognize them for what they are, or rather, have become to me - symbols of love, especially tailored to my and my pet’s uniqueness. A very different kind of love, but still one that does not preclude conventional romance but instead contains it, eclipses it… it’s the sequel. Love II - Now with more oomph! I would never want to go back now that I know how it feels to live the dream.

Well, this has been terribly ramblesome and I’m not sure there’s much of a point to it, other than my sense of luck in having found someone so compatible on so many different levels, caring, and willing. And so beautifully perverse and free.